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I'd like to become a professional writer in the next decade.

7 (29.2%)

Less than videogames.

6 (25%)

I am a professional writer.

3 (12.5%)

More than my health.

2 (8.3%)

I'm not sure.

5 (20.8%)

More than videogames.

0 (0%)

Not at all.

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Total Members Voted: 24

Voting closed: April 23, 2012, 11:42:36 pm

[moocowmoo]

ppp

[Little]

A nice little twenty minute piece I wrote. It doesn't quite have the prompt exactly right, as I was writing in past tense, but it is in there. Any comments or criticism?

Mutiny on 25698

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

    The starship Fed-25698 slowly drifted through space, battered and bruised, a gaping hole of of half-melted metal where the engine was a mere three days before. The cruiser was not a ship that was meant to stay and engage in combat, yet when Tylfoon Pan-Nationalists ambush you when you're unaware and blow out your engines, you don't have much of a choice. Captain Ryien knew his men had fought bravely, knew his men had beaten impossible odds, knew his gunners were probably some of the best in the System, but that did little to comfort his guilty heart. He hadn't saved his men! He grimaced and gripped the command console with white-knuckle fury. Some rich shit-slug punks who probably hadn't begun to grow beards yet had gleefully ambushed him with almost half a fleet! His loyal crew had fought them off valiantly, but they had taken many losses in the fight. His own first mate had died of depressurization!

    He was a good captain, but even the best captain couldn't fight lack of supplies. Water was running low, the rations were almost finished, and even life support had been damaged by a badly made Tyfloon missile. Every night, his crew went to bed a little angrier, a little more hungry, a little more thirsty. Their homing beacon had been destroyed, their transmitter shot to bits. Ryien knew he had won a battle fit for historical archives, but they'd never been given Valour Medals, never see the rewards they deserved. It wasn't fair!

    One of his loyal crew members had told him the mood on the ship was getting tense, that there was a mutiny scheduled for tonight. Ryien knew his reign would end soon. Man of all persuasions, whether he was the richest executive in the System or the poorest beggar on Ragyar, took a perverse joy in rebellion. As Ryien casually checked his sidearm battery, a plan began to grow in his mind. He'd head to the arsenal with men he knew could be loyal, grab the shredder rifles, and make sure the cries of rebellion were mixed with screams of agony. He was one of the best Captains in the System, Terndamn it! Ryien, the man who had been awarded the Executive Honour for his role in the Under War, wasn't going down without a fight. He was the Captain, and tonight he was going to kill those who joyfully mutinied. Tomorrow, he was going to execute those who stood against him and rally those faithful to him. By the end of the damn week, he vowed, they were getting out of here and back into Federal Territory. He was a Captain, and he was either saving his vessel, or going down with his ship...

[Dwarf]

I don't know what it's worth. It might be bullshit.
Inspired by Wongraven's "Fjelltronen" and Paysage d'Hiver's "Winterkälte"

Spoiler: The Black Throne (click to show/hide)

Under us is rock and ice
Rock of ages,
Ice of old

The Mountain black stands proud and high
Our puny feet link us to him,
old and mighty gargantuan giant,
witnesser of countless years.

High fog cloaks both forest and stone,
freezing cold consumes the living.
Further yet must we ascend,
to become one with him and with ourselves.

Breathing fast, with hasty heart
rise we even higher and higher.
Our breasts embrace the slicing air,
our fingers do not want to leave the rock.
They stick and clasp.

Forest and fog is left behind,
all there is is us and him.
The Black Mountain, the Throne is reached,
the Throne of Mountains,
throne eternal of grandest might.
Happily, we close our eyes, drifting away,
not dying, but embracing the rock,
for now and ever after.

[Dakk]

And suddenly we have two little gems in this little thread. And quite at the right moment, for me. Just watched some X-files, and first Dakk's poem, really resonating, then Chris "Urist McNewb"'s story, where I couldn't imagine anyone but David Duchovni as the lead, so to say.

Well, now my impressions.

@Dakk: it's an interesting topic, what was your inspiration? At first I thought to say "My condolences", but then looked at your profile, and I assume it's not a real life experience. Interestingly, I just had a mouse let out its last breath in the palm of my hand, and this poem came as a rare and nice coincidence.

About the rhyming I can't say anything negative. It clocked perfectly for me. There are no rhymes jarring to the ear, what's more I don't think the point of your work is rhymes like in some pieces I know, I think it's how it felt appropriate to convey the content this way. Am I right?

I read this stuff when I'm bored enough, basicaly their purpose is to give the reader a sensation of fear and paranoia. I aways wanted to do one, but I was never inspired enough, then I woke up today, and the first and last verses just sorta popped in my head, and I worked the middle out after I got back from college.

I was never confortable using rhymes, because they make me feel I'm creating something quite cliche. I just couldn't find "proper" rhymes for some places and had to go with the next best thing, which wasn't exactly excellent.

Thanks for the compliment though, I'm not used to getting any for me textual creations, mainly because I'm a lawschool student so 70% of everything I write is brainstorming on laws, rights and jurisprudence.

[Supermikhail]

@Little: At first I tried to criticize the style, or the themes... but then it dawned on me, in what sort of voice it's supposed to be read! - "Blimey, where's me rum, mate?" A coarse, heavy voice would work brilliantly here.

Now, another comment I had was prompting a scientific discussion - how "mere" would you say three days would be in space? No, seriously, can you say that when the speeds there reach thousands of miles per second, and pretty much everything, from where we stand, moves more or less directed by RNG (by everything I mean mostly meteorites comparable to a ship in size)? Well, this bugs me.

Otherwise, an excellent piece, quite on par with your other story that you might have noticed I linked in the Library, and that has a similar theme... Are you focused primarily on space sci-fi, or it's just a coincidence?

@Dwarf: yeah, it sounds like bullshit Well, at least I haven't read anything in such a style... or what the word is... the meter is unfamiliar to my ear. But you've written the piece, and I assume it exists. I would be grateful if you could direct us, or introduce in some otherway, to this meter. E: or this is a song?

@Dakk: Yeah, the conventional rhyming is considered kind of "pop" by some people (well, not just some, but some), but I'm no expert, and I feel this thread desperately needs Piecewise, who I remember is almost(?) a professional literary critic. Alternatively, you could find a book on the history of poetry at your local library, and there's stuff that would really grab your ankles, because world-famous singers have too much money to collect at gigs to pay so much attention to their lyrics.

Ah, I'm sure you've studied Latin, and Roman authors are... famous for their versatile poetry... Am I correct?

[Dwarf]

It might be this.

But if it's BS, I'm fine with it
I threw that together in half an hour or something.

[Supermikhail]

But you lose the rhythm sometimes. If you could record yourself reading the piece, and it sounded nice, then alright. Otherwise it's Outcast Orange prose, and needs to be judged by different criteria.

Edit: bad choice of words.

[Quarr]

Augh. I had tried my hand at the topic 'joyfully mutinies' but alas, I've failed. I started at 6:21, and have just now run out of time. I didn't actually manage to work in the theme at all, such a pity.
Here's what I finished:

Spoiler: Joyfully Mutinies? (click to show/hide)

Whistling a tune, he created a story. A tale of oppression and betrayal, a work of despair and hope. As the droll city innards passed him by, he wove them in. As the beggars and conmen passed him by, they too were included.

Verdant scenery and a path well travelled, cutting a swathe through a pristine green field. The gradual browning, the death of the plantlife, the removal of the trees and the flattening of the land. As the men worked, they destroyed.

Their lives were so empty, yet they were content. As the years passed, the changes continued. From nothing, a city had risen, more land enveloped, molested, woven in too. Through stout labor their efforts yielded much, and so they were happy.

He whistled his tune, smiling faintly. His eyes still drawn to the scene outside, so perfect and beautiful as it passed him by.

Their determination hadn't faltered, and so they continued. What they had was not enough and so they took more. They clamored, they fought, they struggled, and so they rose. They climbed to the top, above mere common men, they bid the expansion, the continual growth, and so we worked.

As our efforts were rewarded, we were content. We gladly obeyed them, trusting their words. We toiled and slaved and forever we labored, together erecting a paradise for all. Our leaders were fair, and so we were happy.

His tune was unfaltering, his face bemused. His effort was focused, for there was still much to do...

I didn't even have time to edit it.
I'm pretty terrible at writing, though I'd like to consider myself average for a 15-year-old.
I'll apologize for breaking into rhyme for no reason then abandoning it and in general lacking any sort of plot whatsoever.

[mendonca]

How can you fail? I would say not to be so hard on yourself ...

I think the purpose of the 'prompt' is to just get you to write for 20 minutes, so on that basis you succeeded.

I think it's a nice concept, and it reads almost like a dream - I'm not sure, but I think I know, what is supposed to be happening.

And thanks for posting it, no apologies necessary.

[Quarr]

I was going to work in the oppression/betrayal and eventual upheaval and, well, mutiny, but time bested me. I was imagining ~5 more paragraphs, actually. I'll probably edit it sometime (there are some word choices along with some unnecessary repetition that I particularly dislike) and maybe finish it. The premise was basically a guy, mildly content with the world, imagining a story about the creation of the city he found himself in/leaving.

[Supermikhail]

Yup, failure is not an option.
I haven't noticed any bad word choices (although some of them were beyond my vocabulary), and am very glad that the thread has tapped into the genre of parable. Well, at least I see your story as such, and would very much urge you to continue it in this way, if you do.

[Urist McNewb]

Nice stories guys, I won't be posting a story today, as i didn't sleep last night after seeing that movie (I HIGHLY recommend Scott Pilgrim to EVERYONE that plays DF, as they're likely to spot the memes, and simply enjoy the theme) Basically the busses had changed schedules, so me and a few friends ended up walking there, waiting two hours (until 10:10) for the next showing, then walking 3 hours home afterwords. Needless to say i'm sleeping very soon.

[Little]

Now, another comment I had was prompting a scientific discussion - how "mere" would you say three days would be in space? No, seriously, can you say that when the speeds there reach thousands of miles per second, and pretty much everything, from where we stand, moves more or less directed by RNG (by everything I mean mostly meteorites comparable to a ship in size)? Well, this bugs me.

Otherwise, an excellent piece, quite on par with your other story that you might have noticed I linked in the Library, and that has a similar theme... Are you focused primarily on space sci-fi, or it's just a coincidence?

Three days can feel like not too long ago when you were ripping through space at a frightening pace and now the ship is crippled and can hardly move. It's more of a perspective thing from the captain's viewpoint where he's reflecting on how they had engines and now they don't.

As for doing sci-fi, I just really enjoy writing it. It's fun, it's quick, and it allows you to do something a little outside the box of mainstream fiction.

[Fishbreath]

It's Wednesday! Therefore, it is time for another prompt. We'll try a different format today.

Bay 12 Writers' Guild Writing Prompt #2:
To put it very briefly, surprise us. That is to say, write something that, whether by a misunderstanding between characters, a play on words, a misleading description, or something else entirely, takes the expectations we build up through the prompt and turns them upside-down at the end.

Inspired by the last line of Supermikhail's response to the last prompt.

[Supermikhail]

And now I'm in debate with myself. I've counted 4 mutineers thus far, and I originally toyed with the idea to have a contest, and the winner, appropriately. Although I wasn't going to judge it myself.

Then, there is another problem - should I add the mutinies to the library? They are supposed to be just exercises, and how much value do exercises have for posterity? Ah, I'll do it anyway.

Edit: That's a tough one, Fishbreath. Seems you're set on Writing Olympics with these exercises.